


Backwards and a Little to the Left

by scarfofshame



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Character Death, Gen, Grooming, I explore the incredible human rights violation that is the GAR, Manipulation, Mental Breakdown, Time Travel Fix-It, but the jedi didn't know everything about the clones, my universe is better and worse than canon, the clones trust obi wan, the last three tags apply to palpatine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:21:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24797599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarfofshame/pseuds/scarfofshame
Summary: After Order 66 shattered his life, Obi-wan had given up on being the perfect jedi. On being a jedi at all, really. Thrown back into the Cone Wars, Vader and the men who tried to kill him by his side, the Council and the Senate sitting serene on top of the rotting muck that is the heart of the Republic, will Obi-wan be able to keep his cool? Does he even want to?
Relationships: Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, but its mainly background
Comments: 7
Kudos: 140





	1. Kenobi's horrible, no good, very bad day

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to get better at writing but my dumb ass can't think of any coherent plot or characters. So finally I caved and was like "fine I'll use somebody else's". That being said, I would love any feedback, even if its just grammar stuff (for all you people who like to correct other's grammar). Hopefully if enough people like this fic the peer pressure will force me to write on a regular basis. #lifehack

“You’re really not looking well, General.” Boil said, unprofessional concern leaking into his voice. Obi-Wan held back a hysterical laugh.

“No need to worry, Boil.” He managed. Oh, how he had failed them. His heart ached to see his men hale and hearty, optimistic and not beaten down as they were in the later years of the clone wars. And yet he still reacted with spiked fear when the corner of his eye caught shining plastoid armor or he heard the voices of the vode bark clipped orders. 

He remembered how Boil had shrunk in on himself and withered after Umbara. Krell… none of them had been the same after that. And after the order… well, that was a thousand times worse. He had been grateful, to be on Tattooine with Luke, when the clone soldiers still served in the ranks of the imperial storm troopers. When he was forced to fight, he could feel them, trapped, screaming in their heads. It was vile. He-

Boil was still there. 

Obi-wan gave him an inquiring look.

“Sir,” Boil tried, looking nervous, “I think you should head to the medical bay and let them look you over”

“Why ever so?” Obi-wan deflected.

“Sir” Boil answered carefully, “you’ve been sitting here in the hangar for an hour and a half”

“Oh.” Obi-wan scanned the hangar, casually busy was it tended to be on the way from one engagement to the next. He didn’t remember why he was down here.

“I suppose I ought to get some rest, then.” Yes, a locked door between him and the rest of the 212th seemed like a good idea.” I’ll head to my quarters.”

Boil, looking surprised to have gained that much assent from his general, nodded, and Obi-wan fled. He stalked through the hallways of the negotiator and let muscle memory take him to his quarters. By the time the doors slid shut behind him he was gulping great shuddering breathes. He fell back against the door and slid to the floor, head on his knees. The force was overwhelming with its light. He felt a crowd of presences, open, reassuring- it was too loud. He focused on only making it into the next moment, and fell into a kind of painful meditation. When he came back to himself, he was crying.

“Oh kriff” he murmured, running a hand over his face feeling bristles on his chin that hadn’t been there for years. 

“oh kriff”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-wan thinks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt as if I should update as a thank you to all you who have commented and given kudos! There's not any plot because I haven't watched clone wars in a long time and I'm legally not allowed to consume star wars content during the school year because I WILL obsess.

He never remembered his quarters on the Negotiator feeling this cramped. In all his memories of the war his quarters were associated with rest, lulls in the fighting, relief. Not quite the warm feeling he used to associate with his quarters at the Jedi temple; too painful to think about now. Obi-wan supposed that after living in a wide open desert for nearly 20 years even a Venator-class starship would feel claustrophobic.

He stroked his reddened beard. He remembered nothing after letting Vader strike him down. No, not quite. There was some dreamlike recollection he was certain wasn't something he had dreamt before. It hovered in his memory as something that happened in a dream but he was sure that he had dreamt it after his death. He had been one with the force? He shook his head. Maybe this was all some sort of fever dream as he lay dying on the death star. The Death Star? That was the name of that enormous space station hovering in Alderaan's orbit. How did he know that? And Luke, Leia. He snorted. Han. They had gotten away, he knew with a certainty they were all right. And it wasn't that he trusted Chewbacca to take care of them. He knew, somehow, that the Millennium Falcon had carried them to safety. They were ok without him.

Now when was he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a fan of the multiverse theory of time travel, in which every possibilty exists as its own universe, and any instance of time travel would instantly create a new universe while leaving the time traveller's intact. In a way, every fanwork is just another on of those possible stories lmao. Also my laptop was gonna die so i posted so its short

**Author's Note:**

> only a short intro chapter to get things rolling


End file.
